


Performance

by Supernova95



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Insecure Tim, Tim's parents are bad parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernova95/pseuds/Supernova95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based of this headcannon by Incogneat-oh on Tumblr:</p>
<p>No one ever wants to talk badly of Tim’s parents in front of him. But sometimes, it builds up–- in his quiet shame, his avoidance, the way he looks honest-to-God surprised when anyone acknowledges him–- and usually winds up with Dick stomping around Bruce’s study and swearing about how screwed up he is. Typically, these exchanges end with Dick demanding, “Shit, B, how do we fix him?” to which Bruce will usually reply, “We can’t, Dick. We just have to be here for him.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Performance

It caught his attention because- nobody ever stomped round Bruce’s study. That was a big no no in the rules of the manor.

You don’t bring costumes upstairs; you don’t fight over Alfred’s cookies (at least no when he’s around) and you don’t stomp in Bruce’s study.

But, being the inquisitive young detective that he was he, naturally, had to check it out.

He thought that he was going to find Bruce in a fight with either Jason or Damian about something meaningless and stupid. He didn’t expect to find ****Dick**** stomping around Bruce’s study shouting, not at Bruce (which is usually what happens when Dick starts shouting) but at… at… his parents.

Nobody ever talked about his parents, he never knew why but they just weren’t brought up. He supposed it was because they were still dead, and he had found out that he doesn’t really deal with death very well; but apparently not.

Because Dick was ****shouting**** about his parents and… how they __weren’t parents?__ How could they not be parents? He had only been adopted once, he had checked.

But Dick was still shouting, still swearing and Tim was confused because-

Dick was shouting about him. Because, apparently; he was screwed up.

There was something wrong with him? How long had there been something wrong with him? Is this why they didn’t believe him when he said Bruce was alive? Is this why they trust Damian more than they trust him?

Is this why Dick replaced him?

Because there was something wrong with him.

He always knew he wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t loved like them, he wasn’t needed like them (not anymore, not now that Batman had a different, better, more Batman like Robin). They didn’t really want him around; this he knew.

He just didn’t know there was something wrong with him.

He thought that was just Damian asserting his higher blood status, reassuring him that he was right in thinking that his presence in the manor was a hindrance; that he really should just leave. That he had been “pretending” his whole life that he was worth something to someone; pretending that he was needed.

He had always known that. Jason knew it too from the first time he had met Tim, the same with Damian, but he had hoped he had fooled Dick…

He was wrong.

Dick knows, Dick had always known. He was just too nice to say so to his face (unlike Damian and Jason).

There were breaks in Dick’s systematic shouting;

Bruce.

Bruce knew too. Of course Bruce knew… he was Batman… but he never wanted Bruce to know. He had been so kind to him after all; letting him be Robin, letting him stay after his parents died, trusting him with Wayne Enterprises while he was… away.

Now he knew… now he knew that was all going to be taken away. He had known it was only a matter of time (because he wasn’t loved like them… he wasn’t needed; was he?). But he didn’t think it would be because there was something wrong with him.

Dick was swearing about him again, and he wished the semi-soundproofed doors of Bruce’s study were fully soundproofed; because he couldn’t listen to his idol talk about him like that.

He couldn’t keep listening, it was getting too hard to breath, his eyes were tearing up and he felt the hole in his chest where his heart should be ache. 

It would be best if he just left. They didn’t deserve a broken brother/son/grandson. It wasn’t right that they had to deal with him along with protecting the city.

But maybe *maybe* before he left they could tell him what was wrong with him, then… then he could try to solve the problem, and nobody else would have to deal with broken, screwed up, worthless Tim. Then again maybe it would be best if he just left, because they may not need him, but he needed them and he didn’t know if he was strong enough to do what he had to, to make things right, if he saw them before he left.

Tim couldn’t remember returning to his room. He did, however, remember the words shouted about him, and through silent tears, he began to pack up his things (the little he had left in the manor after moving into his apartment across town).

Smiling fondly at some of the pictures he had taken in his years following Batman and Robin he was almost ready to go. Just a couple more minutes and everyone would be on patrol, or at least down in the cave, and he wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving without saying: - Goodbye and thank-you for everything you’ve done. Well; at least it wouldn’t be gnawing at his conscience.

“Timmy!!!” No- no- no- he can’t face Dick, not now, not at that moment, not when he just realised that the smile on Dick’s face was nothing more than a performance put on just for him. “Timmy, B wants to know when you’ll be down for patro-” Tim had tried to hide, but Dick had opened the door too quickly. He had had enough of a glance at Dick’s face before scurrying into the gap between his chest of draws and wall to see Dick’s usual smile fade into a worried frown. “Timmy?… What are you doing?”

His voice was… sad. It was pretty obvious what Tim was doing and Dick’s voice was still… ****sad****.

__No, it’s just a performance, just a performance, Dick’s good at performing, he’s putting it on just for you, don’t listen. Cut yourself off and don’t listen._ _

He curled himself into a ball, squeezed his eyes shut and forced his palms to his ears, because he couldn’t look at Dick’s performance, because it was so convincing.

But he never could ignore Dick, never had been able to, and probably never will; so when he found his personal space being encroached on by the man he automatically uncurled himself to look up at him.

“Hey Timmy, what’s wrong? You know you can always talk to me, I’m your big brother… what else are we for?”

The pain in his chest was back, more tears were flowing down his cheeks and, as much as he didn’t want to speak, as much as he wanted to run to a place where Dick couldn’t follow; words started flowing out of his mouth.

“I… I heard what you said, what you were saying earlier… to Bruce, about how screwed up I am, and how un-normal I am, and I… I thought you didn’t want me around anymore, so I thought I would leave, so you wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore, because it’s not right if you don’t want me; for me to stay… so I thought-”

He was cut off by Dick’s stricken face pulling him into the longest hug ever (and Dick’s hugs are long).

“Tim… Timmy” he wasn’t sure if Dick’s silence was confirmation of everything or if he was truly upset. “No. Tim just ****no****. You are anything but a burden to us; you’re amazing, smart… cute. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Those months when you were away, searching for Bruce, and we didn’t know if you were dead, alive, losing your spleen. Those were some of the hardest days I’ve ever been though in my life. Because you’re my little brother, and I love you”

“But you said-“

“That your ****parents**** had done a real number on you… had screwed you up, that they had treated you like cow pat and made you believe that you were a worthless waste of space.

“And it annoys me so much; because you’re not. A worthless waste of space doesn’t figure out Batman’s secret identity aged nine based on a somersault, a waste of space wouldn’t have… couldn’t have known Batman needed a Robin, and definitely wouldn’t have put themselves forward for the job after the last one had __died__ because I hadn’t realised what a downwards spiral losing one of us put Bruce into”

“But you replaced me, I wasn’t like Jason, I didn’t die. I was still there and you replaced me with someone we had just met and had already tried to kill me” it brought a strange satisfaction to him that he had never seen Dick look guiltier, or heard his voice quieter, or more subdued.

“I replaced you because I couldn’t stand to order you around. Robin has to do what Batman says, it’s part of the dynamic; but as Nightwing I rarely do what Batman says… we do things differently, always have and always will. Yes I work with him… sometimes share a house with him… like the old days, but Batman has no power over Nightwing. I just couldn’t bring myself to have that sort of power over you.”

“Which is why you let me go… even though you thought I was crazy…” the realisation of Dick’s actions washed over him like a bucket of ice water.

“Yeah… you wanted to go… you were so convinced; even though I wasn’t, even though everyone else wasn’t, even though technically I had power of attorney over you and could have made you stay. I had to, what sort of big brother would I be if I hadn’t, I had replaced you and I hoped maybe I meant more to you than Robin, and that by confronting you, you would realise this and not leave, but I see now, it wasn’t Robin. It was me… and the fact that I had failed you in being there for you. Your second father had just died… really we were all you had left and you being you had figured something out and; I should have trusted you. I should have trusted that you knew what you were doing, I should have helped you from the beginning, but I didn’t… couldn’t see that. All I could see was you walking away; and I was being selfish, I thought by letting you go maybe you would forgive me for taking away the thing that you worked so hard for… the thing that meant most to you in the world” Stunned was an understatement.

“Robin ****never**** meant more to me than you, you were the Robin… I was merely filling boots… I thought you thought I wasn’t good enough” it was barely a whisper but clearly audible in the otherwise silent room.

“Never little brother… in some ways you’re better than me now… in just about everything but flexibility… ‘cause you’ll never be better than me at that” and he was being tickled… surely he was too old to be tickled… and laugh like a four year old.

“S…s…top pleeeeease Dick”

“Nope… not gonna” His eyes went wide, and Tim could almost see the light bulb above his brother’s head. Somehow Dick managed to lift him up, keep tickling him and mutter about the fact that he was too thin… all at the same time, until finally plonking him down on his bed.

“Stay”

“What are you-?”

“Stay” Dick merely smiled and left the room, returning with his arms full of DVDs. “Stay at home movie night!!!!”

“But Batman said-” Dick cut him off by clearing his throat ****loudly****.

“Nightwing and Red Robin remember. We don’t have to do what Batman says… now lie down and enjoy the movie. Alfred’s bringing popcorn and drinks in a minute” with that he flipped on the bed next to Tim with the remote securely in his hand and pressed play.

“Really Dick… the Lion King?”

Dick smiled back with a mischievous sheepish grin on his faced that belonged to someone in element school “It’s a classic”

Tim couldn’t help but smile back… maybe it wasn’t a performance after all.


End file.
